


Ave Atque Vale

by booksmusicandmagic



Series: Shadowhunter Short Stories [4]
Category: The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: And angst, Angst, Death, GOSH, I AM SORRY, I am evil, I am so sorry for this, So much angst, Why Did I Write This?, ahhh why, and sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:56:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12089319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksmusicandmagic/pseuds/booksmusicandmagic
Summary: In loving memory of Max Lightwood...





	Ave Atque Vale

**Author's Note:**

> I remembered that Max died in September... so...  
> I am so sorry for this.

When Alec saw the toy soldier, all he felt was numbness. Even as he saw his sister break down, sobbing her heart out at the sight of the toy, even as Jace’s expression falls solemnly as he recognizes it. The toy Max had received from Jace. The one he refused to part with ever since he got it. Alec refused to let anything show, tucking himself away into the deepest, darkest parts of his mind. He lets his instincts drive him, to eat, sleep, survive. All he could think, all he could feel, was that he had failed, failed at being the big brother, failed at protecting his brother, failed at protecting his family, failed at life itself.

* * *

 

Alec visits him. Before he is burnt. It is early morning, after Izzy has finally cried herself to sleep, after his parents have finally stopped whispering together and gone to bed. And Alec is alone, in a room full of so many different people, people he didn’t know, people who he failed to save. And it was all his fault.

Alec traces his finger along the relaxed planes of Max’s face, brushing locks of brown hair away from his forehead. He looks so peaceful, as if he would wake up any moment now, grin up at him with shining gray eyes, and say, _Alec, look!_ And he’d show him another graphic novel or some mundane show franchise and Alec wouldn’t even be annoyed. He’d pay all the money, riches, jewels in the world to have his brother give him another annoying lecture about the differences between manga and comics.

Alec’s fingers trail down to the edge of Max’s arm. The boy’s hands are folded over his chest, hiding the wound that led him to his doom. The elder’s own hand trembles as he smooths down the lapels of Max’s jacket, tracing each pearlescent button with a fingertip. Each tiny gem of witchlight lighting up under his touch. Twinkling out of view as soon as he moves away. Just as fast as Max’s soul left his body. Too fast. Too young. Too slow. Too cowardly.

Alec clutches his head as thoughts fly around in his brain, sinking to the floor next to the table where Max’s body lays. Harsh breathing echoes through the dark room, the shadows of the dead looming over the walls, staring and leering at the curled up Shadowhunter, the weak, pathetic Shadowhunter who is huddled in a ball, repressing his emotions and refusing to cry. Refusing to feel. Because he needs to be strong, for his family, his people. He needs to be strong.

With a few more shuddering breaths, Alec stands, clipping his shoulder against the wood of Max’s table. As he hisses, more in shock than pain, Max’s hands fall open, revealing a small stone clasped in his palm. Alec looks at it in confusion, slowly reaching out and prying it from Max’s grasp. The stone lights up when Alec touches it, the small prism lighting up with angelic power. Under the white light, Alec can see small words etched into the Admas- _Vincit lux tenebris. Light conquers darkness._

With a gasp, Alec falls to his knees again, the witchlight still clenched in his hand. He recognizes it from the last time he saw it, in his own palm as he held it out to a younger Max, his brother smiling up at him before running to find Jace, the brother Alec had always thought Max had loved, idolized, cherished more. Alec was just… _Alec_ , the boring, strict older brother who never did anything fun.

But the stone, the gift, in his hand spoke otherwise. It spoke of a brother loved by his younger, loved for his protective nature, and wise guidelines, and firm rules that kept them from getting hurt. It spoke of love, protection, kindness. Acceptance.

And as he holds his last gift to his brother in his hand, Alec finally lets his tears fall.

 

 _Ave atque vale_ , Maxwell Joseph Lightwood. Hail and farewell.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy (belated) Birthday to you, Alec Lightwood... I'm sorry for the horrible gift...
> 
> I finally got a tumblr! It's under the name 'booksmusicandmagic' (duh). Come cry with me! (Also, help me learn how to use tumblr and how to insert links in here, please...)  
> You can send me prompts in the comments or at tumblr, doesn't matter either way.  
> Thank you for reading. Comments and kudos appreciated.  
> -Booksmusic&magic


End file.
